For 5 years, my dog and I had a relationship that would make Scooby and Shaggy jealous. We’d go for morning walks, play fetch after work, and lounge on the couch all evening. We were buds. I even referred to us as “The Buds,” a duo so exclusive not even my wife could become a member, try as she might.
But then the kids came, and the demands of fathering human children quickly began to cannibalize quality time with The Buds.
As a result, Mo went from receiving 100% of the attention to, like, still 50%. But he’s handled this change with all the grace and elegance of a drunken frat boy.
I try to be sensitive to his situation, but my God…my God…sometimes his bids for attention are so desperate and so repetitive that I swear he has turned into an affection seeking robot. And because of this, I end up saying the same things to him over and over. Here now are 13 of those things.
SHHHHHHHH! Shut up. It’s 5AM. You’re so loud. Do you have to shake like that every time you get out of bed? This is the only waking hour I get alone. If you wake one of the children, I’m going to kill myself and make you watch me die.
Move! Get out of the way! Why are you always loitering in the primary intersections of the house? Can’t you tell everyone has to walk around you? Or is this your master plan?
Go potty. If you go to the door, it better be an emergency. I don’t have time to let you out just so you can stand on the stoop and sniff the air. Now, go on!
DON’T EAT THAT! [screaming out the patio door] Don’t eat that, it’s goose shit!
No lick! You just ate goose shit. Please stop licking the baby.
Easy! Why are you so physical? Stop boxing out the children.
Drop it! You have a hundred toys in this house. Why must you take the toddler’s Mickey Mouse slippers? She is screaming like a slasher movie victim, and I cannot handle it. Now, drop it!
No bark! What is your deal? Why must you lose your mind any time the neighbor dog is out/the UPS guy drives by/I ever-so-gently place a cup of coffee on the table at 5 in the morning?
We’ll go soon. Walk soon, bud. But for now…
Go lie down. You lingering in my peripheral at all hours of the day is driving me crazy.
What do you want? You’ve had food, water, 2 walks, 5 bones, and so many treats that you now have diarrhea. Why are you still whisper crying by the treat door?
You’re doing this on purpose. Oh, your ball is stuck under the couch again…for the 5th time in 5 minutes…and you require my assistance? Hmmmm, how queer.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry the toddler pulled your ears. I’m sorry the baby requires around the clock attention. I’m sorry things aren’t the way they used to be. I’m sorry, all right?